


I want to grow old with you

by katfoxmandu



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, SuperCorp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 23:51:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13422255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katfoxmandu/pseuds/katfoxmandu
Summary: It's a phrase Lena had never before thought of.One she wishes she had.And words that eventually consume her.





	I want to grow old with you

**Author's Note:**

> I just got my dream internship.   
> The muffins I baked turned out perfectly.   
> And season 4 of Grace and Frankie came out today. 
> 
> So have this to share in my joy.

**I want to grow old with you.**

It’s not the first phrase that Lena thinks of when she sees her.

Kara Danvers.

The blonde wearing peach on rose. All creams and beiges. A shade lighter than the blush of her cheeks, the faint color of her lips. A compliment to the piercing blue eyes that show every emotion. Every feeling. The resounding agreements and stuttering nervousness.  The brief moments of confidence. The few seconds of uncertainty.

It’s not the phrase that repeats in her mind when Lena watches her walk away. The fight club’s address in her hands. The lingering presence of her hands on her back. The smell of flowers filling the room.

Kara Danvers.

The small reporter relishing in the challenge of her new promotion. The tightness with which she grips her notebook. Her pencil. As though in an instant the dream will vanish and she’ll be left on the sidelines. Fetching coffee. Setting appointments.

Lena’s fingers tremble. They fidget. They smooth her skirt, clutch the remote, move across the keyboard, pour water. They stay busy. But she can still feel it. She can feel it. She’s sure of it.

The way the air is like electricity when she enters the room. It crackles. It tingles. It pulses through the air. Does no one else notice? The change, the distinct adjustment of electrons, the shift, the physics, the chemistry, the person who made it happen.

Kara Danvers.

**I want to grow old with you.**

It’s not the phrase that Lena hears when Kara leans in, eyes wide in determination, face set in defiance. That’s what friends are for. They crash dinner dates. They interrogate potential threats. They protect. The blue eyes say this. Her voice says this. Lena hears it. She feels it.

When Kara drops the purse. It resonates. It ripples across the floor, to Lena’s feet, her hands, her heart. She feels it.

She wishes they’d met before. So that she’d have had this rock, this cheerleader, this advocate. One who fights for her when she’d needed it most. When she was a pariah. An outcast. Alone. With Lillian’s harsh parenting and Lex’s glory. It was blinding. Suffocating. But with Kara, she can breathe.

Lena laughs. She pouts. She furrows her brows in mock disgust. She flirts. Kara smiles. She ducks her head. She adjusts her glasses in mock shyness. She flirts.

Lena is breathless.

**I want to grow old with you.**

It’s not the phrase that Lena thinks of when she reprimands her.

Kara Danvers.

The blonde with her intricate updos and button-up shirts. Cardigans and belts. Slacks and mini-skirts. Full of excuses and lack-luster work effort. A newly-minted reporter with minimal experience. Missing meetings and making excuses.

Lena’s hands tremble. Hold the phone tighter. Hold her tighter. Hold her.

She can’t.

**I want to grow old with you.**

It’s not the phrase Lena thinks of she sets down the bottle of wine. When she pours a little more into the glass. When Kara walks in the front door. When she’s unable to sit up straight, unable to think clearly, unable to feel.

But she does feel. The spark in the room. The fire in the air. The rush and fight that follows Kara everywhere she does. The reason why she loves her.

Lena loves her.

Kara Danvers.

The staunch defender of justice. How little she can do but how much she believes she can. Taking on fraud and false allegations, wealthy business men and corrupt politicians. With her wide stance and hands on her hips. It’s like she’s about to take flight and split the sky. A superhero. A hero. Lena’s hero.

 And she wants more.

She’s always wanted more. For the hugs to evolve. The fingers to linger a little longer. The heads to turn, lips to cheeks, lips to lips. More. Something more.  With Kara.

**I want to grow old with you.**

It’s not the phrase Lena hears when the more comes. When hands link with hands and mouths whisper in ears. When she holds her, because she can. When the charged air explodes, when it’s felt not only by Lena but also Kara. When they’re both breathless.

 It’s not on Lena’s mind when she wakes up next to blonde hair spilling over her pillow. Soft blue eyes full of sleep looking back at her. It’s not the words she hears after receiving a good morning kiss, a finger tracing her arm. Her wrist. Her palm. Back again.

It’s more.

With her.

Kara Danvers.

So why is Lena trembling? Why do her hands give her away, only to be calmed by Kara’s firm grip and slight tug. Leading her. A physical touch.  A literal presence. A tangible body. Something she can feel. Something that she’s sure of.

**I want to grow old with you.**

It’s not what Lena says when she chokes back tears that burn hot and angry. It’s harsh and uncontrolled. It’s upset and hurt, words that sting. That leave marks. That need time to heal. Words that Lena regrets instantly but in the moment of their release allow her to breathe.

And yet she’s left gasping for air.

She can’t breathe.

**I want to grow old with you.**

It’s a flash. A phrase that comes and is gone in an instant. Thought and forgotten in a rush of apologies and please forgive me’s. I take it back. I’m sorry

A phrase replaced by I love you. I love you too.

She loves her.

Kara Danvers.

The girl with whom she’s always wanted more. Who’s wanted more. Who gave her more. Who loves her back. Who forgives. Who wipes tears and tucks hair behind ears. All smiles and crinkling eyes, head tilts and warmth.

Kara Danvers. 

**I want to grow old with you.**

It’s the phrase Lena says, hands trembling, white dresses shifting in the soft breeze.

**I want to grow old with you.**

It’s the phrase Kara repeats, hands gripping Lena’s, electricity floating between them. It’s in the air. She can feel it. She’s sure of it.


End file.
